Her Own Memories
by mimosamouse97
Summary: Ginny's memories of Harry and Hogwarts, beginning with their first encounter.
1. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material you recognise, this is just my interpretation of events. Thanks to JK Rowling for such amazing original material.**

**A.N.: Though not my first story ever, this is my first attempt at a FanFic. Please review, constructive criticism is appreciated.**

Epilogue: First Encounters

The day on which I first saw the boy I knew I would marry was an incredibly ordinary day.

It had followed a summer like any other, and would precede a year remarkably similar to the one before. I was just ten years old, and had gone to see my brothers off to their school for the year. I was holding onto my mother's hand, gripping it tightly so as to avoid being swept into the stream of people which threatened to separate our - admittedly sizable - family. This year, four of the boys would be going to school, and I would be the last one left behind. I huffed quietly, ignored in the bustle and commotion which surrounded their departure.

Ever since I could remember, there had always been someone else at home. I mean, despite the fact that Bill had started going to Hogwarts the year I was born, I had always been very close to my brothers. Admittedly not always the safest upbringing, especially where the twins were concerned, but then it was certainly an interesting one, most notably in the holidays. I grinned at the thought of the last summer holiday, when we had all been at home, all seven of us, and the house had been as full and messy as I could ever remember. Games of Quidditch that lasted for hours - admittedly I hadn't been allowed to join in, but then, they didn't know yet that I had regularly broken into the shed from the age of six to practise with the brooms - huge family meals, occasional bangs from Fred and George's room, looking (carefully) for Bowtruckles in the woods and meadows surrounding the burrow, and having competitions to see who could fling Gnomes furthest . I sighed happily. The summer had seemed like a paradise that would never end.

Lost in my memories, I tripped over someone's suitcase, the cat residing on top hissing at me angrily. I sprang back, abruptly shaken out of my reverie. As I looked around me at Kings Cross Station, my mum continued lecturing my brothers.

"I don't know _what_ you were thinking boys, you know you should keep the wands hidden out of the way. Percy, can't you make that owl be quiet. Now, do try not to be obtrusive" - at this I snorted, six people with flaming red hair aren't exactly inconspicuous - "and twins, don't do anything too silly this year. Now as I was saying - for goodness sake Fred - George - Fred - well whichever, put that away, it's packed with Muggles, of course - " I saw a boy who had been lingering uncertainly on the platform suddenly lift his head and look at us.

I stifled a gasp. He was small and skinny, and he had black hair that was all stood up and messy. He had glasses that kept sliding down his nose, and he looked like he was struggling with his heavy load of suitcases - all new I couldn't help but note, unlike Ron's, or anything else of ours really. But what most caught my attention was the pair of piercing, beautiful green eyes that momentarily studied our group, before turning away with an indeterminate expression. Then I caught wind of what my mum was saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" Momentarily distracted, I turned and answered excitedly, before my brothers could.

"Nine and three-quarters! Mum, can't I go..." Noticing the look my mum was giving me, and seeing her preparing to launch into another lecture, I subsided, looking around again. The boy was now heading over to us, looking slightly nervous. I wanted to smile at him, but I was too mesmerised by those beautiful green eyes, so I turned away once again, blushing at the thought that I might have been caught staring.

Mum was talking to the boys again, and out of the corner of my eye I watched first Percy, and then with some joking, the twins, go through the barrier. As I was preparing to go through, steeling myself, a voice suddenly cut through my thoughts.

"Excuse me." His voice was still quite high and nervous, and I blanked out the rest of the conversation as I stared, and stared, wanting to imprint the memory of his face on my mind. I saw my mum point, and chat, and direct, without hearing a word. I went through the station in a daze, wandering along anchored only by my mothers hand. In all the movement, and the goodbyes, and the concerns and forgotten items and chaos, only one thing penetrated my mind.

"_Harry Potter!"_ My head snapped up, thoughts once again interrupted.

"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please..."

She scowled, and began to scold me. I frowned in return, knowing in annoyance that I looked like a miniature version of her, but unable to help myself. It was silly, I knew, she was only irritated because the day had been so hectic, and anyway, it really wasn't fair of me to ask to see him again. But still, I had wanted one more glimpse of the gorgeous, piercing eyes. I sulked, until, in a panic, I realised that I had nearly missed the chance to say goodbye to my brothers; the train was leaving. Frantically, I ran after the train, laughing and yet almost in tears to see them go, perhaps for another year.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, all the material you recognise is JK Rowling's, etc...**

**A.N. So, obviously the story hasn't made it very far yet, but then this is only the first real chapter. I will update again as soon as possible, and in the mean time, review please! Any constructive criticism is welcome :) **

Chapter 1: Frozen

One morning, about halfway through the summer holidays, I woke up to a banging noise coming from downstairs. Grinning up at the ceiling in the dark, I closed my eyes again and felt my excitement grow in the pit of my stomach. In just a few weeks I would be going to Hogwarts for the first time. I would be sharing a dormitory, having actual magical lessons, making friends who I didn't have to hide secrets from. _Not_ left alone on the platform. _Not_ in a Muggle school with only one other witch in my year. _Not_ having to pretend to my friends that there was nothing different about me.

I wriggled my toes in sheer delight. So few days left to go. All I had to do now was go to Diagon Alley and get all my - realistically, second hand - equipment and robes. At least, those which I couldn't get from my older brothers. My elation lessened slightly. Much as I loved my family, I hated the fact that our lack of money meant that we had to get used items and others' discarded rubbish, and at times I felt embarrassed by it. Shaking my hair out, and wrinkling my nose slightly at the ticklish sensation of my hair falling over my nose, I rid my mind of the thought, allowing myself to fill with anticipation again. Mum had promised that we could go and get our new items within the next two weeks, and I could feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach in anticipation.

Leaping up out of bed, I studied myself carefully in the small mirror which hung on my door. My pale skin was lightly flushed with emotion, my brown eyes overly bright and my red hair as flyaway and startling as ever. I frowned at the freckles which spattered over my nose - an occupational hazard of being a Weasley, unfortunately - and tried to convince myself that I didn't look _cute_. It just wasn't fair. I had just turned eleven, and already my friends were starting to look beautiful, already starting to be interested in boys. And while I was interested in boys - well, one boy in particular - the way I looked couldn't be described as anything except childishly sweet. I snorted in irritation, glowering at the reflection.

Scrambling back to the other side of my room, I pulled open the curtains to reveal a bright, beautiful day with only a few clouds scudding across the horizon. I tugged at the long nightdress which covered me, making sure I was decent, then decided to head downstairs for some breakfast. Absentmindedly, I wondered what all the commotion had been about.

As I traipsed down the stairs, from my third floor bedroom downwards, I began to hear conversation from the kitchen, my Mum's fussing, scolding voice making itself clear.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!"

Then my brother's voice - one of the twins - raised in a complaining tone.

"They were starving him, Mum!"

On the response, my Mum's voice was slightly softened.

"And you." Before I had time to contemplate who 'he' was, I arrived at the bottom floor of the house, and abruptly stopped.

Oh. No. I froze, looking at the small figure, with dark hair and green eyes, seated at the kitchen table. My heart started thumping, and as everyone turned to greet me, I forced out a small squealing noise, and then sprinted up to my bedroom, without waiting for anyone's response. Oh no! I hadn't seen him since he had overheard me asking my Mum to see him at the end of the last school year. As I was asking, he'd walked up to our family, and I'd thought I would die from embarrassment. It was painful just thinking about it, and I wished, not for the first time, that I had a sister to talk to. Or at least a friend who lived nearby. Frustrated with myself for betraying my emotions again, I kicked the wall, causing my Weird Sisters poster to drift down, as if just to annoy me further.

I sighed, the enjoyment of waking up this morning completely gone. It was going to be a long rest of the summer.

And, except for Harry Potter's presence, it was a fairly normal summer. That is, until the day the Hogwarts letters came.

* * *

Weeks of elbows in butter and knocking over china later, the day came when our Hogwarts letters arrived. I had practically fidgeted myself into a state, from a combination of waiting for my Hogwarts letter and being around Harry.

Finally the day came. Coming downstairs one morning around half way through the holidays - I had begun to be anxious - I came downstairs one breakfast time to find my Mum beaming and holding out a letter. I snatched it out of her hand, crumpling it hopelessly, and read.

_Dear Miss Weasley,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment_

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress._

I sat in a state of shock and joy throughout the rest of the morning, while the rest of people came and went around me, bustling and organising, readying themselves for the visit to Diagon Alley. I did not know it then, but that next Wednesday was to be the start of a chain of events leaving to one of the most traumatic moments of my life.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material you recognise, or the characters etc. It's all JK Rowling's.**

**A.N.: I hope you're enjoying the story now that it's moving rather more apace. Please review, with any constructive criticisms or questions that you may have! Also, this chapter isn't complete yet, but I will be updating ASAP.**

Chapter 2: The (Retrospectively, Unfortunate) Trip

The minute we arrived in Diagon Alley I knew something had gone wrong.

Well, even before that really.

As we had been preparing to travel by Floo, the family had been spewing constant instructions at Harry - I almost blushed at the mere thought of his name - who had, apparently, never travelled by Floo before.

As he stepped into the fire, he coughed out "D-Dia-gon Alley". I checked in horror, realising that he had breathed in the soot. I tugged on my Mum's sleeve, Harry's mispronunciation apparently having gone unnoticed in all the commotion of leaving.

"Mum. Mum! He, he...Mum! He got it out wrong - I mean, he said it wrong, he choked! Mum!" Finally, my voice seemed to break through her fussing. She turned towards me with a look of horror on her plump face. She shoved Dad towards the fire place, and then everyone in quick succession, me finally stepping through second only to her. As I shot out of the other end's fireplace, caught quickly by the twins, my fears were confirmed. Blanching - and, if the twins and Ron were anything to judge by, making my complexion even more striking, I began to call out slightly hysterically.

Soon the rest of my family took up the call.

"Harry! Harry!"

* * *

We finally found him more than half an hour of frantic searching later.

Mum and I were the last to find him, already surrounded by Percy, Dad, the twins Ron, a girl who, from the description given by Ron I could only assume was Hermione Granger, and - oh.

The man towered over the rest of the group, and his wildly bushy beard and hugely proportioned form would have been terrifying if not for his kind, almost beetle-like eyes. Despite being dark and deep set, they were warm and sparkling, and when he smiled at me I grinned back, forgetting for a minute to be self-conscious. I was out of breath, puffing through my mouth at having been dragged along by my Mum in hot pursuit of the rest of our family. As the blood pounded through my head and I bent over double trying to get in large breaths, I dimly heard the others discussing where they were going to go, and by the time I looked up, everyone was heading off in opposite directions. I followed my family off to our vault.

As we came into Gringotts and, after waiting for what felt like hours - I was beginning to get over the panic that our loss of Harry had engendered and had become ridiculously excited once more - but was in fact only minutes, we were on the cart leading to the vaults. As the cart sped up, I held on tight and closed my eyes, using the sensation of cool air rushing over myself to fight off the feeling of sickness that pervaded my whenever we came down here.

As we reached our vault, my Mum stepped out, waiting for the goblin to open the door. She stood as upright and dignified as she could, and I felt so proud of her in that moment. She, still with the utmost dignity, retrieved all of the savings in the vault, even sweeping in the corners. But for once I wasn't embarrassed by our poverty, if only momentarily. No, we might not have as much money as Harry, and certainly not one hundredth of an old family like the Malfoys, but it didn't matter. We made up in character what we lacked in money, and not one person, in that second, could ever have persuaded me otherwise.


End file.
